


Digestif

by Rising_Phoenix



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Home Invasion, Hostage Situations, M/M, OOC behavior, On the Run, Post canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rising_Phoenix/pseuds/Rising_Phoenix
Summary: (Repost)2 years after the fall, they are on the run. They find refuge in a remote house, thinking they can hide there, but when the owners, a gay couple, return unexpectedly, a lethal mind game begins against surprisingly equal adversaries.Nothing is what it seems, and in the end, only two of the four men will get out of this game alive.
Relationships: Liam Žudikas/Dante Žudikas (Original Characters), Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

“Was that seriously necessary?” The younger of the two men asked the older one, who sat behind the steering wheel.

The older smirked and only shortly turned his head towards his companion. Then he reached out with a hand and touched the silky curls at the back of his head, a gesture into which the other leaned. A gentle, tender gesture that showed the emotional connection he felt for the other, and at the same time, this little touch calmed himself.

“He was rude, calling you...that,” he replied after a moment of silence.

The younger man laughed, a crystal clear and pearly sound that made him smile, the darker eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement.

“He was right though, with calling me a faggot. The way you were sucking at my neck like a vampire left not much to the imagination,” he laughed. “I think he felt offended by your very public display of affection.”

“That is no justification to be insulting, my dear,” he gave back, still stroking the short curls and smiling. “He would have done better if he had not said anything.”

“In his defense, it was a small town. And small towns in the USA are usually not very open-minded when it comes to same-sex things,” he said, grinning.

“That is their loss then,” came the reply from a smiling face while he looked ahead, but then his smile turned into a frown when the engine made a sound that reminded him or something crunchy, then again and then the motor stopped to work and they slowed down.

“What happened?” he asked but got no reply.

Bringing the car to a complete stop at the side of the road, they both excited and went to look at the engine.

“Can you do anything?”

The younger man shook his head.

“I know nothing about this sort of engine, sorry,” he said. “It could be anything. Next time, we need to steal a car that actually works, I guess.”

His companion nodded.

“I will make a not to remember asking the owner before I cut his throat then,” he said. “Very rude indeed to have us leave with a defect machine.”

He laughed, the hands deep in the pockets of his tan jacket.

“Very, very rude,” he said. “Good thing he has not the chance to be rude anymore.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “What now? We can't go back, and the next town is probably, I don't know, around ten miles in that direction?” Once again there was silence between them, and once again he asked himself what was going on in the complex mind of the man who had dominated large parts of his life for the past years.

“We can't leave the car here,” came then the remark.

He nodded and thought for another moment, looking ahead of the road.

“I think the road gets close to the canyon over there,” he then said. “We could try to get the car there and push it over the edge.”

The reply was an agreeing nod.

“They will be busy with trying to find out bodies once they found the wreck. It gives us some time ahead to find somewhere to hide for a while.”

“Hide? We should get as fast away from here as humanly possible,” the younger man said, a little upset annoyance showing in his voice.

“That is exactly what they will expect from us.”

They looked into each other's eyes, and then he nodded.

“Right. Let's do this,” he then said, and together they started to push the car down the empty road.

When they reached the edge, that indeed overlooked a deep canyon that was green with trees and gave view to a few waterfalls, a truly idyllic sight, they took the backpack and bag out of the trunk and then pushed the car over the edge. Together they watched the stolen car, that they had taken from the rude man who had insulted them at the gas station, tumble downwards, crash into trees and finally vanished in the darkness of the canyon below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A day later, he cursed the man who was leading ahead with a steady and ruthless speed through a thick forest that had no man-made paths. They had only rested shortly and he was craving a good night's rest and something nice to eat. Instead, he was trying to keep up with him, muttering under his breath that they just should have stopped another car and taken that instead of running through the forest like a pair of rabbits on the run. His dark curls were sticking in a sweaty mess to his forehead, and he felt dirty and smelly.

“Can you wait a moment?” He yelled after the other.

“What is it?”

He frowned.

“I only need a moment and something to drink,” he explained to the man that had stopped and only now turned around to face him.

His dark eyes looked upset, and his chiseled face also showed traces of being tired, not that he would ever admit that, but then he nodded.

“I apologize,” he said and made a step towards him. “I only want us in a place of safety, we can rest then, my dearest.”

He sighed.

“It can take days until we reach some civilization,” he gave back. “Lets at least take a break here.”

His partner looked into the direction where they had been going.

“I think it will rain soon,” he said. “Something tells me that it is not far.”

“What is not far?”

“I'm not certain. Something.”

And with those words, he continued to walk. With a roll of his eyes, he started again to follow him.

It took another two hours until they reached the unplanned and unexpected destination of their walk through the woods.

They stepped into something that at first looked like a clearing, but then he realized that it was a wide private driveway that looked indeed like it led to a place where they could hideout, and after only a few minutes of additional walking, they were faces with an organic and dynamic building that fit right into the nature it was built into. The several levels of the house were flat and resembled Asian and minimalist architecture, most outside walls were covered in wide windows that overlooked the simple driveway in the front, that also harbored the wide doors that probably held two or three garages, and the backside must have been facing the canyon at which's edge it was leaning into.

“Wow,” the younger man only said, while the other carefully approached. “Did you know that was here?”

“How would I have known?”

He shrugged.

“You're usually full of surprises,” he said with a grin and followed him to the front door. “Looks dark. Maybe nobody's home?”

The other nodded and knocked at the door, waited a moment, and knocked again.

When now as well no answer came after a short waiting time, he turned to his younger partner.

“Can you pick the lock? It would be a shame to break something,” he said, earning another roll of his eyes.

“You kill people without wasting a thought, but you are bothered by damage to a stranger's house? One day you have to explain that to me,” he grinned, but went to one knee and took out his lockpicks, that he started to wear in a small box that he always kept in his jacket, just in case.

The lock was old and simple, showed that the owner did not bother with safety measures, probably because of the remote location out here in the forest, and when the door snapped open, he got up and stepped aside and let the other pass with a gesture.

The hallway was dark and the walls were made of quarry stone, elegant but simple furniture flanking the sides. Several doors lead into other rooms and a wide staircase led into the upper floor.

Both men listened to the darkness, but when no sound came, the made their way inside, closing the unharmed door behind them.

While the older went upstairs to check out the rooms there, he went to examine the ground floor and soon found the large kitchen with open eating space in the back of the house, right next to the spacious living room that held an enormous fireplace and cozy-looking sofas. He did not need prompting to feel a pinch of jealousy when he looked at a photograph of two dogs, a terrier and a retriever mix as it seemed, that stood on a small table with a potted orchid and a few candles. It had been years since he had owned a dog, life on the run did not allow him to have such luxury, but it was no secret that he missed having a home, having all that that he lost. He missed them, missed the comfort his furry companions had always provided.

“The kitchen looks nice,” he said when the other joined him in the living room. “Let us hope the fridge is stacked so we can have a nice dinner for a change.”

The reply was a short nod.

“There are three bedrooms upstairs, and two bathrooms, not including the master suite on the second floor,” he told him. “The owners have impeccable taste.” Again, there was a moment of silence between them. “Let's get cleaned up and I will prepare dinner for us. It looks like we get a good rest tonight.”

He smiled at him, knowingly, in a silent understanding that had always existed between them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dinner had been a steak that had been prepared to perfection with a side of grilled vegetables, flavors that filled his tastebuds for a time after he had swallowed the last bite. He could always count on his companion to feed him with the most delicious meals, spoiling him in a way that it had become hard to still appreciate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or a plain burger.

He was standing now, while the sound of the dishes being done behind him, at the large window overlooking the canyon, holding a glass of wine, deep in thought. Only when the sounds behind him stopped and a hand was put onto his shoulder, he snapped from his thoughts and turned the head only slightly, welcoming the soft kiss that was pressed to his ear with a pleased hum.

“I miss being alone with you,” the other said and when he turned farther around, he saw how his partner's dark eyes had grown even darker with anticipated desire. "Will."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had been watching his lover sleep for he could not say how long. Maybe an hour. Maybe two.

The handsome face with the almost invisible shadow of stubble was rested and relaxed, the lips slightly parted and the snore, which he had found endearing from the first night they had spent together, was regular and someone not used to his presence would just think it to be labored breathing. But he knew better, having spent every night of the past two years at this man's side.

He reached out and touched a strand of the straight hair, that he had never been able to tell the color of. It was somewhere between light brown, dark blond, and the first traces of silver. Pushing the strand out of his forehead, he admired the tan skin and the movement of his face in his sleep, showing that he was dreaming.

Still, after all these years in each other's company, in the friendship that had grown into something else, something deeper, he had never learned to express his feelings like others, but he could happily agree that the man that slept next to him was beautiful in his own way, even though his eyes were hooded and the lips thin and a little lopsided. There was something that made him unique, and he was never growing tired of looking at him and feeling proud that this man was his, and his alone.

The sheet that had covered them throughout the night had shifted in the movements of sleep, and gave view to more tanned skin and toned muscles, an array of soft chest hair and the bruises he had left during the last night and that were starting to bloom in shades of purple and blue, marking him as his own. Each of those bruises made him remember the moment he created them, and his ego grew at the sight of those.

His fingertips followed the pattern of colorful markings, mapping the ownership of the other man like he held ownership of himself. They were each other's in more level than one, and it never stopped to feel good, feel right to see the visible traces of this.

The other stirred in his sleep, shifted, and moved until he turned a little and opened sleepy eyes. He smacked his lips and blinked into the room that was still strange to both of them, facing the canyon and waterfalls underneath, with the same wide windows that flanked the rooms on the lower floors. The master suite, like everything else in this house, spoke of owners of distinguished taste with dark wooden furniture that was simple and elegant, colorful paintings on the neutral walls that in no room were of a simple white but grey, tan, beige, and in this room a teal so dark that it looked almost black without a source of light. And still, the room did not feel claustrophobic. Instead, it felt cozy and comfortable, with the large bed that was flanked by two nightstands with several drawers and a small sitting area by the windows, made of two leather armchairs and a small table. Opposite the bed was another large fireplace, and everything about this room was sensual. It was easy to imagine that the people that usually slept here must feel stimulated by this room and made probably a good use of the assortment of toys that they had found in the nightstand last night but had not used on themselves.

“Good morning, my dear,” the slowly awakening man mumbled and smiled a little while turning farther around.

“Good morning,” Will smiled back. “Slept well?”

“I cannot complain. Though the mattress is a little too soft for my taste.”

“Mmmh, I like it, feels like a cloud,” he smiled and allowed his lover to pull him into his arms and kiss the corner of his mouth. “I dreamed of Cuba last night.”

Brows there furrowed.

“Good or bad memories?”

“Good. Only good. Always the good,” he replied into a now deepening kiss. “I miss our little adventures at the beach.”

The other laughed silently but obviously amused.

“There will be more beaches, my dear,” he said. “I think Greece would be a nice place to visit and maybe stay a little longer.”

Will shrugged.

“Never been there, but I always wanted to go there and see the ancient sites with my own eyes.”

“Greece it is then.”

He nodded into the kiss, not able to avoid the smile that crept over his face.

“I'm starving,” he then said, departing a little from him. “What do you think about breakfast?”

“Breakfast sounds like a splendid idea, my dear Will,” he said and shoved the younger man a little off of himself. “I would like a shower first.”

Will nodded.

“I'll go and get the coffee machine started. I doubt they have one of those fancy things like the one you had back home.”

“Not everyone can have such an impeccable taste.”

Will laughed and slapped his partner's bare butt when he got up and walked towards the bathroom before he found a silk dressing-gown of a dark blue, that was a little too large for him and went downstairs.

He was surprised that he found a coffee maker that was very similar to the one he had seen in his companion's house years ago, and tried to figure out how it worked, but gave up after he found another, probably very expensive but easier to handle coffee maker, that he filled with beans and turned it on. Only minutes later, the room was filled with the scent of fresh coffee that caused him to sigh in contempt.

He had fried bacon that he had found in the huge doubled sided fridge and made some scrambled egg, that he was just putting onto plates when he got company again and they both took their places at the kitchen island like they had taken their breakfast countless times in this kitchen.

He watched his partner chew a load of food and look at him.

“Everything okay?” He asked, knowing how picky he was when it came to food.

He swallowed what he was just eating and then softly smiled.

“This is quite delicious,” he praised his efforts.

Will beamed and grinned into his own food, glad that he was by now able to supply something that was liked and not met with subtle sarcastic remarks instead.

They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence, something they rarely had been able to share in the past years.

When he cleaned his lips with a napkin that he put folded onto the plate, Will asked: “So, what are the plans?”

“I say we check if there are some things we might need and then continue our way,” the reply came. “Have you checked the garage yesterday?”

Will shook his head, frowning a little.

“It's a large garage. Even if the owners are not here now, they hopefully left a car behind that we can borrow.”

“Borrow,” Will said with a raised brow.

“We should also take some food, and if we're lucky we may find a little money too that will make our journey easier.” He too put his napkin onto the plate in front of him. “And now tell me what is bothering you.”

“I just wish we could stay a little longer,” Will said. “It would be nice to settle down somewhere, if we not would have been found in Cuba, we might...”

“That is not important anymore. What counts is that we are in the company of each other, and as soon as we reach Europe, we'll have a better life again.”

Will nodded.

“My dear Will,” he said taking his hand while reaching over the island. “It will be good again. You have to trust me.”

Will looked at him.

“Have I ever not trusted you?”

“Do you really want me to reply to that?”

Will chuckled.

“Better not,” he said.

“You want to go back,” came the remark then.

Leaning back in the chair, Will looked at the window, outside a green wall of trees in the distance.

“Of course I want to go back,” he said, the voice almost a whisper. “I miss being home, I miss our friends.”

“We can never go back, Will.”

Will looked up, the frown between his eyes deeper by now.

“You think I don’t know that?” He said, the voice slightly upset now. “And whose fault is that?”

The relaxed expression on the other man's face changed into a tense and hard one, that left no doubt about him being angered now.

“I would assume it was both of our faults, but you would disagree.”

“Damn sure I would,” Will hissed and got up, taking the plates and starting to clean them.

“What are you doing? We are having a conversation.”

“That conversation is over,” Will said, leaning against the sink but not turning back around. “It won't change anything about our situation anyway, so shut it.”

“You are being rude, Will.”

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath, awaiting more words and maybe even the threat of punishment, but instead, there was nothing but silence.

Questioning what was going on, Will turned around to look at the other, but the still seated man raised a hand that was a sign to remain silent.

Will listened into the silence of the large house, heard nothing...until there was the sound of a car getting closer.

“Shit,” he said and started to move at the same time as the other, but it was too late.

The front door opened and a man, carrying a large duffel bag came in, laughing.

“You can't seriously think that Emily would be okay with you criticizing her marinade,” came the laughter from a smooth voice. “And now you act as if she insulted you! Sometimes I don't know why I bother with you.”

He turned and put the bag down, while another man entered the house, keys in his hand. The second man put his hands on the first one's hips and leaned down into a short kiss.

“Her marinade was clearly having too many spices. A little more cardamom would have been a very nice touch. I thought it was kind to let her know so she would do better the next time. What she did to the meat did not do the animal that had to die for this meal justice.”

The voice of the second man was deeper and carried a slight accent that Will could not quite place, hiding with his partner at the back wall of the kitchen, only hearing now what both men were saying without having gotten a good look on them.

“On the day before her wedding?” The laughter of the younger man became louder. “God, her face. And then her dress...I'm still surprised that you did not say anything about that."

“I was at a lack of words at that atrocity of...”

“Fluff?”

“I wanted to say distaste.”

“That works too.”

The sound of another kiss was there.

“How about we go upstairs and I show you what else works?”

“Oh, how subtle you are today.”

The laughter turned into a giggle and Will rolled his eyes at the playfulness of the other couple.

“I need to check my emails first though, I am waiting on word from Neil about the new artist I was telling you about.”

“Yeah, I remember. Brian something;” the younger said. “I'll unpack in the meant...”

He stopped mid-sentence and Will knew that he had noticed something that was out of place.

“The bag,” his companion whispered.

Will closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

There was no word, no movement, nothing. For seemingly long seconds, they waited for what was going to happen, and then they acted before they had to react and moved out of the kitchen into the adjoined living room, avoiding an immediate confrontation with the owners, getting to a point that was more of an advantage, and then they both moved, not making a sound, into the hallway, where the owners were still standing, listening, and Will had one of the men down before they could react themselves.

“What...?” The man beneath him, laying on his front on the floor, Will on his back, muttered, while his partner was taken care of by Will's constant companion, pressed against a wall with one of the kitchen knives at his throat.

Will now was able to get a better look at the man that was still standing, both hands raised in a submissive gesture, blue eyes slightly widened behind glasses. His hair was brown and cropped short, almost in a buzzcut, to his head, the jaw and chin covered in dark stubble. He could not quite say how old the other man was, but he seemed to be around his own age, while he only saw greying hair on the man beneath him, but felt hard and toned muscle.

“We have money in the office,” the man at the wall said. “Please...please, don't harm us.”

His voice sounded scared, trembling and Will felt a rush of adrenaline in his body, anticipating what was to come.

“We'll see about that,” he said, while his partner pressed the knife harder against his throat, drawing a little blood already.

His partner gave him a nod, and he took both wrists of the other man into his and pulled him up onto his knees.

The second man was handsome, with light and darker silver hair that was falling into his forehead in longer strands and a beard of the same color. His skin was tanned, probably from days spent outside on the large terrace, and showed a few wrinkles that only increased his attractiveness. Will could see that the younger man was gone on him, and vice versa. They made a handsome couple, and he was intrigued to find out more about them. Their age gap and build, even part of their looks would make it easy to take their passports and use them. But he sensed that they would not submit easily. There was fight in the younger man's eyes, while the older only looked at his partner, the head slightly lowered, panting and the muscles tense.

When his partner let out a whimper, the knife pressing again into his throat, the man that Will was having on his knees tried to get out of his hold, but he held him down.

“Dante, don't,” the younger man said, shaking his head. “I'm ok.”

“Are you sure, Liam?”

The younger, Liam, nodded, and the man on his knees, Dante, seemed to relax a little but remained aware of what was going on.

“Up,” Will said and dragged him into the living room, pushing him into one of the chairs at the dining table. He pulled the handgun that he had hidden in the back of his jeans at all times and pointed it at his head.

His partner pushed the younger man into the room, who stumbled and fell, catching his fall with both hands, but was smart enough to not make any unexpected move and slowly turned around, again both hands raised in defeat.

“What do you want?” He asked, while Will's partner pulled him up and onto a chair next to Dante, who gave him a worried look to which he only nodded.

“We will think of something,” Will said, smiling a little, still being flooded by adrenaline, as he had last felt weeks ago, when they had made a stop in South Florida and had a little fun there, heart pumping and head getting dizzy.

Dante looked at him, then towards the other stranger in his house, his home.

“Who are you?” Liam then asked, which Will found strange and noticing that the older man, Dante, was someone who seemed to first observe, while the younger made inquiries.

“Since we learned your names already, it could be considered rude if we don't introduce ourselves,” Will's partner said. “This fine gentleman is William Graham, my name is Hannibal Lecter.”

Both Liam and Dante looked at each other for the split of a second.

Then Dante looked straight at Hannibal, and a weird little smile appeared on his bloody lips, the brows raised in recognition.

So he had heard of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will was watching the other couple while leaning in the wide arch that separated the kitchen from the living room.

They had tied Liam and Dante onto two chairs, put them back to back so that they could not communicate with looks and nods, but only with words. But instead whispers, tears and pleas, there had been...nothing.

Both men had remained silent, not uttering more than Liam's “Are you okay?”, to which Dante only replied, “I am.” Since then, there had not been a single word.

Dante, the older of the two, sat with a straight back, and it seemed like he was listening to his surroundings, while Liam, who was still wearing his glasses, had the head slightly lowered and the eyes closed. It was him who seemed more agitated, while Dante seemed mostly angry. They were a strange couple, and even more strange was the way they did not really put up a fight but had almost immediately submitted. Will thought it was to protect the other man from the unknown fate that awaited them, something they had his respect for.

“Have they said anything?” Hannibal said behind him, drying his hands from washing them, the sleeves of the shirt he was wearing now rolled up.

Will looked over his shoulder towards his partner and shook his head.

“Not a word,” he replied.

It was Dante who turned his head to look at them, the dark eyes boring a hole into them, assessing the situation and one could almost see that there was a plan forming behind the long strands of hair that covered his forehead.

“What do you want from us?” He then asked.

Will made a step forward.

“We need to lay low for a few days,” he replied. “before we can make our further way.”

Dante huffed and again there was something like a smile on his lips while he shook his head.

“And we are to believe that you will just leave us behind like this?”

“Hardly,” Liam whispered.

Hannibal made a step forward.

“If you cooperate, we may come to an agreement,” he said.

Dante nodded, turning his head a little, trying to get a look at Liam, who noticed the movement at his back and turned his head as well.

Will expected that one of them would say something to soothe and calm the other, but again neither of them said a single word. He noticed how Hannibal beside him was intrigued and curious.

“Go into the office and see if you can find something, Will,” Hannibal said, his eyes locked into Will's, who nodded, turned, and went to check in the small room down the hallway.

He pushed the door open and assessed the room for a moment before he started to do the job asked of him.

At first, he just took in the shelves and books, on art and travel locations, several maps with dossiers on artists, and a folder with sheets of paper. A box with pencils and pens. An address book.

Moving his mouth into a frown, Will sat down behind the desk and pulled the drawers but found them locked. Who locked drawers in their own house if they had nothing to hide? Maybe even from their own lover, boyfriend, or whatever Liam and Dante were to each other. This thought was something Will stored into the back of his head, it was maybe something they could use if they had to.

Just the knowledge that one of the men had locked the desk from the other was something he could use to their advantage.

After finding the laptop being password protected, Will got up but immediately sat back down when his gaze dropped on something he noticed from the corner of his eye. He had noticed the logo of a bank on top of a sheet that was peaking out of a stack of papers, and pulled that sheet out, finding a bank statement printed out.

His eyes flew over lines and expenses and finally settled onto the last row, where his eyes slightly widened.

Will whistled at the number he found there and now got back up, taking the paper with him and handed it to Hannibal after he had reached the living room again. He looked at the men on the chairs, and found that in the few minutes he had been away, nothing had changed.

Hannibal looked at the statement and looked shortly at Will who only nodded.

“A banking statement from Lombard Odier,” Hannibal said, the sound of his voice giving away that he was impressed, and Will saw how a muscle in Dante's cheek twitched. “About a sum of 4.2 million Swiss Francs.” Hannibal smiled subtly. “That is an impressive sum, Mister...,” He looked again on the sheet. “Oh, I apologize, Misters Žudikas.”

Will raised a brow and looked over Hannibal's shoulder onto the sheet, and indeed it was a joined account in the names of Dante and Liam Žudikas. A married couple then. Interesting. Especially considering that with a fortune like that in their name, one of them had married rich. That was most probably a vulnerable point for one of them, something that might come to their advantage.

Hannibal and Will exchanged a look, then Hannibal nodded.

Will made a step forward.

“We are a little tight on money, to be honest without access to the accounts Hannibal holds,” he said, looking at Liam, who raised his almost innocent blue eyes to return the look. Still the man who seemed to be the youngest of all of them looked like he was close to tears.

Will pulled the gun from his jeans again and pointed the weapon straight at a point between Liam's eyes. The other man closed his eyes, the lips a little open, and drew in a deep breath.

Dante behind him raised against the restraints that held him down, sensing without seeing the distress his husband was in.

“Liam,” he whispered.

“I'm okay,” Liam said, but his voice trembled slightly.

“The passwords to the account and we're out of your hair,” Will said.

He was surprised when Liam opened his eyes and looked right into his, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. For a moment, Liam only stared at the man who was in the power to end his life within a second.

“You must think we're stupid,” he then said. “You only need one of us to give you the code, since you are already aware that the account is in both our names. What stops you from killing us anyway?”

Hannibal moved closer, obviously fascinated by Liam's remark that stated that he was well aware that their lives were not only threatened but as good as over.

“You said you are Hannibal Lecter,” Liam continued, the voice melodic but firm. “The Chesapeake Ripper. Hannibal the Cannibal.” He let out a little laugh. “You must really think we are very stupid if we were thinking we get out of this alive, Mister Graham. We are nothing but the first course and only interesting as long as you are able to play a game with us.”

Hannibal leaned down and whispered into Liam's ear: “Do you want to play a game, Mister Žudikas?”

Liam opened his mouth to reply with something but was interrupted by a phone ringing. Hannibal and Will exchanged a look and then both looked at Dante, who sighed.

“Did you not check his pockets?” Hannibal asked.

Will shrugged.

“They're tied up, Hannibal,” he replied with a smirk. “Not like he can take a call.”

Dante straightened his shoulders.

“That is a business partner of mine who is waiting for important paperwork,” he said. “He's going to send someone to look for us if I won't take the call.”

Liam tilted his head to the side, obviously curiously expecting the reaction of the criminal pair.

Then Hannibal sighed and dug his hand into the pocket of Dante's dark grey jeans and fished a smartphone out of it.

“Code?” Will asked.

“571003,” came the reply from Liam instead of Dante, which made Hannibal raise a brow while he unlocked the screen, pressed the button to accept the call, and held the phone to Dante's ear after frowning at the phone for a second.

“Dante Žudikas?” Dante answered.

Will leaned to Hannibal.

“Why didn't you put it on speaker?” He whispered.

“He somehow has that option disabled, seems he has secrets from his husband,” Hannibal whispered back.

Will was surprised. Liam and Dante seemed to be in touch, seemed to be able to complete each other's thoughts, but then there were things that said that some things were not both men's knowledge. For the first time in a long while he was not able to read his opponents.

“Yes...I know, and I'm sorry...Liam and I just returned from our friend's wedding, please accept my apologies for not getting back to you sooner...I will have the paperwork ready within the next days...Yes, I am certain...,” Dante chuckled. “I will tell him...No, he is alright, the trip tired him though...He is out to pick up the boys...I'll tell him...Thank you...Oh, and give Bella our regards...Goodbye.”

Hannibal took the phone from him and ended the call.

“Picking up the boys?” Will asked. “Children?”

Liam's shoulders tightened.

“Our dogs,” Liam replied, and Hannibal noticed a movement in Will's shoulders. “We let them stay with a friend in town while we were away.”

“Yes, I saw them on a photo. A Labrador and a terrier,” Will said.

Liam nodded.

"That's them, yes."

“Will it be a problem for your friend if you don't pick them up yet? Will that be suspicious?”

“I can give her a call,” Liam said. “She'll understand.”

Will noticed that Liam seemed to be more worried that the dogs were getting hurt than he was worried about himself and his husband. Strange.

“Do that,” Hannibal said. “Give your friend a call. What is their number?”

Liam looked up at him and told him a number that Hannibal dialed and then held the phone to Liam's ear. After a few rings a woman's voice answered.

“Hi, Claire, it's Liam...Yeah, we just got back...The wedding was beautiful, I'll tell you all about it when I pick up the kids,” he said while looked up at Hannibal. “I was calling about that actually. I have a bit of a migraine, and I wanted to ask if you can keep them a day or two longer?...Oh, you're a dear, Claire, I'll make it up to you...Yeah, bye, love you.”

Hannibal ended also this call and looked down at Liam who closed his eyes, agitated from lying to his friend, while Dante behind him was tense like a predator ready to attack.

“Back to the bank account,” Hannibal then said and Will raised again his hand that was holding the gun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will noticed that Dante's wrists were bleeding and between the cuts where the rope had cut into his flesh his skin was white from constantly being pushed against the restraints.

The man could only hear the whimpers of his husband, who Will had started to beat, and Will had expected that he would be saying something, begging, trying to bargain. But he did not.

Instead, he fought the restraints, the hands balled into fists, and the mouth drawn into a snarl. He resembled a feral dog, ready to rip the throat of his opponent out, and not the rich and probably spoiled man that he was. Will was not sure if he should be impressed by the strength of the older man, or if he should be annoyed by his will to fight whatever would be put in his way. He had expected that a man who knew who he and Hannibal were would be scared, worried for not only his own but also his husband's life and would try anything to get them out of this desperate situation, but instead Dante was silent, only threatening in his body language, while Liam was accepting being a victim to the violence. In the meantime, he was certain that Hannibal was already considering the couple's uncooperative behavior as rude and was creating an elaborate plan in his head to punish and end the two men they held in their hands.

“I want to talk to Liam,” Hannibal said, coming back into the room. “Alone.”

Will looked up at him from his place on another dining room chair and nodded.

“Up,” he ordered towards Liam, who looked up, still sweat on his face, the blue eyes filled with unshed tears and blinking.

“But...,” Liam started, the voice trembling and every ounce of his body screaming that he was scared out of his mind.

“I said, up,” Will repeated and pulled Liam's pliant form from the chair.

The other man fought for balance and almost fell after he had been sitting for hours in the chair and had now been raised too fast, his head spinning.

“Dante,” he whispered, turning his head to his husband, who now got the first look on Liam's already bruised face with a splint lower lip and a few already colorful spots on his handsome face.

Dante tensed again significantly but gave his husband a short nod.

“I love you,” he said, surprisingly calm, and now Liam was the one to nod.

“Love you too,” he gave back, and Will was almost disgusted by the emotional state the two men were in, probably preparing themselves to not see the other again alive.

It was Hannibal who grabbed Liam's shoulder and lead the man out of the living room, leaving Will behind with Dante, who looked after his husband until he heard the closing of the office door and turned his head back straight ahead and looked at the wall facing him.

Will took a chair and put it in front of Dante and sat back down, taken the features of the man in. He now noticed that his eyes too were wet, but he did not allow himself to cry, instead, he was still pushing his wrists against the ropes, every muscle in his body at the alarm and Will could only imagine what this man would be capable of if put at test.

“So,” Will said, crossing his legs and leaning back. “What does all that money come from?”

Dante's dark eyes only shortly flicked upwards, looking at Will, and then he lowered his head again.

“You know who we are,” Will continued, his voice soft but leaving no doubt about the position they were in and that he was having the upper hand. “It's only fair I learn a little about you.”

Again, Dante looked up, his eyes focusing directly into Will's, a stare that made him feel uneasy.

“You already know our names,” Dante said. “What else is there to know?”

“I also know you have two dogs,” Will smiled. “What I don't know is what you do for a living.”

Dante's brows narrowed in a frown.

“I own a gallery in the next town,” came his short reply.

“A gallery,” Will repeated. “And you make that much money with that? I saw painting supplies in the room next to the bedroom on the top floor. Do you also paint?”

“Liam does,” Dante said.

“Did you meet that way? You running a gallery and him being a painter?”

“Are you trying to analyze me?”

Will grinned.

“Not at all. Only trying for some small talk.”

“We met through work, yes.”

Will nodded.

“The paintings he does, not my style.”

“It takes an educated mind to understand the complexity of abstract art,” Dante said, not able to hide a bit of a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal sat down behind the desk as if it was his office he and Liam had retreated to, both hands on the table as if he was doing the first appointment with a patient after he had tied Liam's wrists to the armrests of the chair opposite him.

“We can make this short by you giving me the codes for the bank account, Liam,” Hannibal said calmly. “Or we can make this a very long and unpleasant experience if you continue to resist.”

Liam looked up, eyes scared, and brows pulled together.

“I don't have the codes. I mean, I have half of them, but you need both halves to gain access to the account, and Dante...,” he said, lowering his head again.

“Dante,” Hannibal said. “One of my favorite poets.”

Liam raised a brow and looked up.

“Guess his parents liked him too,” he said silently, avoiding to look directly at Hannibal. “I never got really into his writings.”

“Are you familiar with the Divina Commedia?” Hannibal inquired.

“I am, just not my favorite reading material,” Liam said, submitting into talking to his captor, one brow slightly raised. “I'm maybe the younger in this relationship, but I'm not without education.”

Hannibal sensed that the younger man had more than once had to explain his love for a man older than him and that he was getting defensive. Interesting.

“I never said you were, Liam,” Hannibal said. “I was just surprised because not many people are familiar with Dante's work in the United States. My Will for example,” he smiled and shook his head with a chuckle.

Liam narrowed one eye.

“Opposites attract,” Hannibal then said and looked again right at Liam, who had his head tilted a little to the side, and noticed how attractive, almost beautiful he was with his defined jawline and the aesthetically pleasing face, the fragility in his eyes.

“Are you flirting with me, Doctor Lecter?” Liam asked.

“Why would I?” Hannibal said but continued to look into Liam's eyes. “You are a married man, and I am not someone to steal someone's spouse. After all, I have my William as well, and...”

His words were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Liam's eyes widened and he raised his head.

“Do you expect a visitor?”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I have no idea who that is.”

Hannibal sighed, hating to be interrupted, stood back up and walked around the table.

“Go and welcome your visitor then,” Hannibal asked of him, and only slowly Liam rose to his feet after being untied and was pushed by Hannibal back into the hallway, where Will was standing in the door to the living room, nodding towards Hannibal who pushed Liam towards the front door.

Liam hesitated and looked up at Hannibal, whose face let no doubt that he had no choice but to comply with his wishes, and opened the door.

The man he was facing was nobody unknown to him, shorter than Liam and red-faced, with a red face and thinning hair. He was wearing a green jacket and tried to push his way past Liam into the house, but Liam almost shut the door into his face after just being confronted by him, seeing him being enough to know what would come.

“Žudikas, your fucking dogs got into my barn again and killed two of my priced rabbits,” the man growled, panting from exhaustion, and Hannibal was disgusted by him already.

“Mister Barnes,” Liam said, not even being surprised that his neighbor did not pay the slightest bit of attention to the wounds on his face. “Our dogs are not even here and Dante and I just returned from a trip. Whatever killed your priced rabbits, it was not our dogs, has never been our dogs, and never will be our dogs,” he explained. “If you now excuse me.”

He tried closing the door, but Barnes put a foot into the door, stopping Liam from closing it.

“I will call the sheriff, Žudikas, I will tell him that your fucking beasts are a danger. There are children around here, what if they bite a child next time, ever thought of that? Has your sugar daddy not taught you anything useful or are you only good to get fucked? And what happened to your face? Have you been a bad boy and daddy needed to beat some manners into you?”

“Mister Barnes,” Liam tried again trying to ignore the hurtful insults he was showered with every time they had a run-in with him, but the neighbor now shoved him brutally back so that Liam stumbled two steps into the house caused by the aggressive gesture and away from the doorway, noticing that Hannibal was standing right behind the door, waiting and watching the scene unfold, only inches away from his angry neighbor, who was trying to make his way inside the house as well. “If you come one step closer, I will call the sheriff in your stead and have you arrested for trespassing,” he quickly said, hoping he could prompt Barnes to just leave and not endanger himself further, already sensing that something was going to happen.

“You fucking faggots,” Barnes growled, making another step towards Liam. “You fucking faggots and your fucking dogs. God knows what pervert games you play with the mutts, you...”

The words of the neighbor seized in a wet gurgle when a screwdriver was pushed into his throat and Liam was covered with the gushing blood of the man who stared with wide eyes at him, his life slowly being forced out of his body.

“God,” Liam whispered and fell backward onto the floor, wiping the man's blood from his face and looked up at Will Graham, standing next to the annoying man who was ending his life on his doorstep, falling now to his knees and falling on top of Liam who stared wide-eyed at Hannibal and Will, panting in sheer shock and terror, who only exchanged a look.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal had asked Will to go and take a shower and supervise their unwilling hosts while they cleaned up as well, while he took care of the neighbor's body. Will had already a very detailed idea of what Hannibal was really taking care of and complied without making further inquiries. Instead, he took a shower like he was asked after he had tied the blood-soaked Liam up in the office and left Dante where he was in the dining room.

The walk-in shower that was situated in the master bathroom was huge and held more than enough space for two grown men and while enjoying the stream of hot water, Will allowed himself to have some hot thoughts about the two men that most probably took regular showers together right there. Liam was cute in a nerdy way and he had noticed how Hannibal way eyeing the other man, while he had his eyes set on Dante, who he thought was hot. Not as hot as Hannibal, but Will was no longer ashamed for thoughts that others might deem inappropriate. The need to touch himself, especially after something that triggered his adrenaline like what had encountered at the front door, was unbearable, and so he took his aching cock into his hands and leaned against the glass wall, the eyes closed in sexual bliss while he jerked himself until he emptied his load into the shower. The steaming water washed him clean afterward and he washed his messy curls with the nice smelling shampoo that was standing on the shelf that was built into the wall and probably cost more than any grooming product he had ever used in his life.

Drying himself in fluffy and luxurious towels he went to see what the closet of the owners of this house held and what he could borrow from it. Liam was almost his size and build, and he found nice, soft jeans and a striped shirt that fit him like it was made for him. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he looked at a handsome face with a nicely trimmed beard, just the way Hannibal liked him, and with a gleeful thought about the night ahead, he went downstairs and got Liam from the office.

Dante's husband was sitting crouched on the floor, his hands tied one of the legs of the desk, staring into nothing, the brows in a deep frown. When the door opened, he looked up and recognized instantly that Will was wearing his clothes, which deepened his frown even further, but he did not comment on it. Instead, he allowed Will to untie him and did not put a fight when he dragged him into a standing position but held him on distance so he would not get the clothes dirty with the blood that was all over him.

Upstairs, in the bathroom, Will ordered him to strip, and Liam stared at him for a moment.

“Are you going to watch?” Liam asked while he slipped out of his sneakers.

“We can't risk anything,” Will explained and continued watching how the other got out of the clothes until he stood in front of him in nothing but his boxers.

Liam was as slender as he had suspected, but was more toned than it had seemed, not as skinny and lithe than he had seemed. His skin was smooth, and there was only a hint of hair on his chest. There were a few scars that Will took in with interest, but did not comment on those either. The painter seemed bashful, standing there in his shorts and glasses, avoiding to look at Will.

“Do you want to shower in your boxers?” Will asked, slightly amused.

Liam shook his head.

Then he took his glasses off and put them onto the shelf above the sink, and pulled his boxers down, his back turned towards Will, obviously preferring to have his back turned towards the wanted man instead of having him see his genitals, which he covered with his hands while stepping into the shower.

Liam noticed immediately that most things had been taken away from the shower shelf. Anything that could have been used as a weapon, the razor, the metal can of shaving foam, the glass bottles that held most of their products, were gone and had been replaced with the small plastic bottles that they kept for travels in the storage room. He frowned a little, but then looked down after the shower was turned on and watched how the blood of their neighbor was washed from his body and then started to rub shower gel into his skin and shampoo into the short strands of his hair until he had the feeling of being clean once again.

“Can I get a towel?” He asked, aware that Will had watched him the whole time, opening the shower door and accepted the towel that Will handed him with a smirk.

He dried himself shortly, glad he had his hair in such a short style and wrapped the towel around his waist.

“Am I supposed to go downstairs naked so you can kill me or am I allowed to get dressed in fresh clothes?”

“Who says we are going to kill you?”

Liam looked into Will's eyes, and something about that made him uneasy. Instead of answering he stepped aside and made a gesture towards the adjoining bedroom, where he followed Liam to the large closet. He continued to watch Liam while he picked underwear, dark grey pants, and a white shirt and got dressed, still avoiding to look at Will and let him lead him back downstairs. Will noticed how Liam's whole body was tense, even after the hot shower, and was ready to fight him should he try anything, but he did not. Instead, he let Will lead him again into the office where traces of blood were still on the floor and was tied to a chair again without a word.

Next, Will went to get Dante and held a knife to the taller man's throat. There was no doubt that Dante was the more dangerous of the pair and would in his anger be able to overpower Will should he try anything, but with the knife, he had at least a little advantage over the older man, who he as well brought upstairs to shower and clean up, also not leaving him out of his sight for a single second. Other than Liam before though, Dante said no word. Instead, he stared at Will from his dark eyes, assessing him and Will could almost see the wheels in his head-turning. Also different from his husband, Dante was not ashamed of his body and did not cover him once he had stripped down, leaving nothing to the imagination with long legs and a hard and muscled body that betrayed his silver hair and beard. The hair on his chest, thick and coarse, was also showing traces of silver, and the term silver fox made for the first time in his life sense to Will. This man was a predator like Hannibal was, something rare and that he had thought to be unique to his partner.

He saw the muscles in Dante's jaw clench when he was also allowed to pick clothing from his closet and decided on a soft cashmere sweater and also soft-looking pants, both in an earthy color that brought his eyes out. Will could not help but feel a twitch in his loin at the sight of the man that was Liam's and was glad that he had not the time and chance to search for relief for this weird attraction. Instead, he brought Dante downstairs and found there Hannibal setting up the dining table for a meal that he had been preparing.

He tied Dante to a chair and went to get Liam, who followed him without asking where he was brought.

“Are you okay?” Dante asked the moment that Liam was brought into the dining room and was placed onto the chair opposite him. “I saw the blood.”

“It's not mine. Barnes came to complain again,” Liam said and looked at Will. “He killed him.”

Dante raised the brows and a smiled appeared for a moment on his lips and gave Liam a nod.

When Hannibal came into the room, they all noticed that he had cleaned and changed as well, probably in one of the guest rooms, and was wearing one of Dante's tailored suits that almost fit him.

“I have prepared a short meal for us,” he explained. “Sadly I had not enough time to prepare something more elaborate, but I hope it will be pleasing to your palate.”

Liam gave Dante a look and then looked at Hannibal, grinding his teeth, the face almost a pout.

Hannibal went to get the food while Will started to fill the glasses with the wine that Hannibal had opened for them, and returned with a tea-cart that held four bowls with salad and four plates with what looked like the main course, and which he put in front of the places he had set up.

Liam stared at the plate in front of him.

The bowl with salad looked like nice arugula with pomegranate, pear, and cheddar. But the plate was what had Liam blinking for a moment and then look up first at his husband and then at Hannibal who had taken his place at the head of the table.

It held an assortment of grilled vegetables and a divine smelling sauce of red wine and spices, and what looked like filet mignon. But Liam knew for sure that they had no filet in the freezer.

“Is that...?”

He stared at Hannibal, who was cutting a piece of the filet and put it into his mouth.

And then he surprised Will as well as Hannibal who actually stopped to chew his meat for a moment, when he cut a piece of filet off himself and started to eat it, holding eye contact with his husband, who did the same, both men smiling while eating the meat that had come from the neighbor whose house was a mile down the road and that had bothered them since they had moved here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After they finished the dinner, Hannibal had cleaned the table, while Will had tied the couple to the chairs they had taken their dinner on, and then the fugitives had excused themselves for the night and went upstairs, leaving Dante and Liam sitting there in the darkening twilight of their dining room.

Liam heard Dante sigh and looked into the dark eyes of his husband.

“Don't worry,” Dante then said. “They will not be able to kill us as long as we have something they need.”

Liam huffed.

“And what when they get what they want?”

Dante smiled and Liam tilted his head to the side.

“When have I ever disappointed you?”

Liam could not help but let out a short laugh.

“Do you really want me to make a list?” Liam asked.

“We have the whole night.”

Liam rolled his eyes at his husband's sarcasm.

“They probably have sex. In our bedroom,” Dante remarked. “A reason to have the whole house sanitized.”

Dante lowered his head with a grin, but when he looked back up, he noticed the worry in Liam's eyes.

“Do not worry,” he said, the warm voice a whisper.

Liam pressed his lips together, the smile that he allowed only hesitant.

“I don't,” he said. “I've not been worried a single day since the day I fell in love with you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will had worn a not very subtle smirk when he had returned downstairs the next morning, wearing again some of Liam's clothes, this time chinos, and a t-shirt. Liam stared a hole into him when he entered the dining room where he and Dante had been sitting the whole night through, tied to their chairs.

“Can I go to the bathroom, please?” Liam asked, no longer afraid to look at Will which confused the former profiler. Something in Liam had shifted overnight.

“Of course, we wouldn't want you to stain the nice carpet,” Will grinned and untied Liam and shoved him into the direction of the guest bathroom close to the front door., where he noticed how Liam grew tense the moment he saw the blood of his neighbor that was still staining the floorboards. “The door remains open,” Will ordered and Liam only shortly frowned but did not put the order Will had given into question.

After he emptied his bladder, Will lead him again back to the dining room, where Hannibal had arrived as well in the meantime, being watched carefully by Dante, whose brows were knit together.

“Good morning,” Hannibal said almost cheerful, and Liam hated the thought that these two criminals had been in their bedroom, between the sheets where he and Dante usually slept and stained their bed. “Are you ready to give us the codes now?”

One of Dante's brows went up.

“And why would we do that?” Dante asked. “We witnessed you kill our neighbor. We can give testimony that you are still alive and in this area. Why would we give you the only thing that is keeping us alive for the moment?”

Hannibal sat down next to Dante and looked at the other man, inspecting Dante's features with curiosity.

“Nothing is keeping you alive anymore but the thought that your company is pleasing,” he explained. “You are wrong if you think that your money is what we want at this point.”

Liam held his breath while being pushed into a chair again, his eyes locking on Dante once again, who looked at his husband, terrifying realization dawning.

“You can do what you want to me, but leave him out of this,” Dante almost growled.

Hannibal leaned back in the chair, looking only shortly at Will, who smiled knowingly.

“And that is what makes you so intriguing, Mister Žudikas,” Hannibal said. “Your devotion to each other. It's in every movement, every look, every word you exchange. You seem to be a strong man, but every strong man has a weak spot. And your husband is your weak spot.”

Dante pushed against the restraints that held his wrists in place.

“You hurt him and I will make you pay,” he threatened them, but Hannibal laughed at him.

“It's okay,” Liam said, not paying attention to anything but his husband, trying to calm him with his voice, having Dante's eyes on him. “I'm going to be okay. I promise.”

Dante nodded but there was doubt in his eyes.

“You know I keep my promises,” Liam added, but his head snapped back when Will's hand slapped him hard without a warning. “The fuck,” Liam hissed, feeling his own blood on his lips.

“You talk too much,” Will hissed.

“William,” Hannibal interjected. “Don't play with the food.”

Liam's eyes widened slightly, and then he found again strength in the look his husband gave him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Liam was completely covered in sweat, his head hanging low and his breathing had changed into labored panting. A trickle of blood and spit was hanging from his lips and his eyes were unfocused and blinking rapidly.

“Liam,” came the voice of his husband through a wall of pain and terror, and he was able to only slowly raise his head to look if Dante was real or a fragment of his imagination.

Dante's eyes were worried and filled with pain themselves, but not of the physical kind like the pain Liam was experiencing.

“M'good,” he whispered, not recognizing his own voice any longer, an accent slipping into the speech pattern that he had dropped long ago and almost had forgotten how he had sounded years ago. “M'good, love.”

Dante nodded, noticing himself as well that his husband sounded distressed and was fighting that weakness, his eyes shifting to Hannibal who was standing behind Liam and who now put his hand into Liam's short hair and pulled his head abruptly back, causing Liam to wince in pain and close his eyes, expecting another wave of pain to hit him, but nothing came.

He opened his eyes again and looked up into the face of his torturer, who smiled.

Hannibal let the knife in his hand glide over Liam's face and he expected another cut, but so far Hannibal had avoided injuring his face beyond the bruises that had been caused by the hits that Liam had endured.

His thumb brushed over a small scar on Liam's cheek, down his jaw and towards the arched back throat.

The white shirt Liam was wearing was stained with this time his own blood, coming from wounds that Hannibal had inflicted on Liam's left arm by having cut off layer by layer of skin until a part of his lower arm was flayed and his flesh was laying bare. Liam still tried to hold back signs of the pain he was in, had tried to not scream and cry, but tears were betraying him and ran down his cheeks.

“Please,” he said, looking up at Hannibal. “Why are you doing this?”

Hannibal tilted his head to the side, again a small smile on his lips, but not replying.

“Liam,” Dante said again. “Look at me.”

Liam fought Hannibal's grip and managed to turn his head in a way so he could see Dante sitting opposite him.

“You are strong,” Dante said surprisingly calm. “You will get through this. We both will.” Then Dante raised his look and looked at Hannibal once more, the eyes pools of cruelty that surprised Liam's torturer. “You will pay for this.”

A chuckle came from Liam's right side and Dante turned his head to look at Will, who stood there, leaning against the sideboard, the arms crossed and a certain gleam in his eyes that told Dante that he was enjoying every second of what was happening.

When he noticed Dante's eyes on him, Will smiled at him, holding back a wink he almost gave him, and then pushed himself off the sideboard and made a few steps towards Liam and bowed down to look right into the eyes of the man who was already in agony.

“You indeed are a remarkable man, Liam,” Will said. “I would have not guessed you were so hard to break, being this little mouse, such a sweet boy, so demure and groomed by your sugar daddy.”

Liam spat bloody saliva at Will's close face and snarled at him.

“Never call us that again,” Liam hissed.

Will and Hannibal exchanged a look, while Will was rubbing the spit out of his face. Then Will's eyes went down to Hannibal's hand and Dante froze, seeing what Hannibal was offering his partner.

“No,” he gasped, but Will took the offered knife from Hannibal's hand and rammed the blade without hesitation or indication into Liam's shoulder with one fluid movement of his right hand.

This time, Liam could not hold back the scream of pain that escaped his throat, while the thin, slightly curved filet knife was entering his muscle, causing agonizing pain that flooded his body, his voice filling the room until it broke in sobs of distress and desperation.

Dante was jumping against the ropes that held him in place, the face now that of a restrained animal that was fighting against his captors, wanting nothing but getting to the man he so obviously loved and wanted to safe from a fate that was still unknown. Something in Will was impressed how gone Dante was on his younger husband, that he seemed to be ready to fight for both their lives and having him watch what Hannibal and he had been doing to Liam so far had been arousing. He could barely wait to see what Dante's reaction would be when they finally ended Liam and served him as the main course to his own husband, becoming truly one with the body of the other man when he would be forced to devour him. Maybe that would finally break the strength and dominance that Dante emanated.

Through the pain, Liam could not make out the words that Dante yelled at them, but when Will twisted the knife in his shoulders, he screamed and felt like passing out. Still, he was not ready to give up, not ready to let the two men that had taken over their home, their place of comfort and safety, win.

“I'm...I'm okay,” he panted through the pain, directed at Dante, who was panting like he had been stabbed himself, feeling the pain his husband was going through while not a hair on his own body had been harmed. “I'm okay,” Liam repeated even though he was not able to believe in his words himself anymore.

“I think,” Hannibal said, bowing down and whispering with hot breath right into Liam's ear, causing him to shiver. “We are going to have a little fun on our own.”

Dante froze.

“No,” Dante said. “Take me.”

Hannibal shook his head.

“I have plans for dear Liam, Mister Žudikas,” Hannibal said. “Please do not interfere with those.”

Liam looked at his husband, his eyes wide and panting in pain and fear, while Hannibal untied him and drew him up.

“Watch the husband,” Hannibal told Will, who nodded. The smile on his lips being a promise of what was to come, licking his lips in anticipation. “And do nothing inconsiderately, my dear.”

Will gave only a smiling nod, his eyes on Dante, while Hannibal led the struggling Liam out of the room.

He expected Dante to yell, Liam to fight.

Instead, Liam turned his head and gave his husband one more look over his bleeding shoulder.

Once more, Will noticed a silent understanding between the two strangers, and something told him that there must be a reason why Liam had not said goodbye to his husband.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dante's eyes continued to stare at the doorway through which Hannibal and Liam had left, not knowing if he would see his husband ever again.

No.

Liam would be returned to him. He would not lose his husband and lover. They would survive this, together.

His breathing was agitated and his hands were balled into fists and the ropes around his wrists digging deep into his skin that was incrusted with his own dried blood from the previous day when he had been tied up as well and had been fighting against it.

He avoided looking at the other man in the room, who was standing on the other side of the dining room table, facing him, waiting for a reaction, but Dante was not willing to give him that satisfaction. He would not allow himself to show him the true level of his fear, all-consuming and tearing his heart apart, and he would not allow himself to let the other men win this game.

Without looking up, he noticed how Will started to move and made two steps forward until he stood closer to the table and Dante's eyes flicked for a moment to the dark, wooden table board and saw the shimmering fluid that was covering part of it. He felt a muscle in his cheek twitch when he realized that is was Liam's blood there on their dining table, where they hosted friends and had casual dinners together, leading to intimate evenings in front of the fireplace. A place they both happily could call home. A place of calm and peace.

Will touched the liquid and let two fingers draw a swirling pattern into Liam's bodily fluid and then brought the fingers up to his lips.

Dante was unable to not look at him rubbing the deep red blood onto his lips and then started to suck his fingers clean.

"Sweet," Will said, looking right into Dante's narrowed eyes and started to circle the table until he stopped behind Dante, something he did not appreciate, not able to see what Will was doing behind him.

Then he was met with warm breath right on his ear.

"You are aware that you will see your boy never alive again?" Will whispered into his ear, husky and almost seductive.

"We will see about that," Dante said, still staring at the blood on the table, taunting him, angering him, provoking his wrath.

Will chuckled next to him, leaning so close that Dante almost thought he could feel Will's stubble on his cheek.

"You're a brave man, Dante," Will continued to whisper. "Will you fight to save your boy?"

Dante's eyes looked shortly to the side, getting only a glimpse of the man that stood next to him.

"Liam is far from being a boy," he said.

"Oh, is he?" Will smiled, standing up straight again. "His blood tasted sweet, innocent almost. Like that of a little boy. Did you ever have a little boy for dinner, Dante?"

Dante's eyes narrowed further, not gratifying Will's words with a reply. In shock of what those words were implying about what Will and Hannibal had done. 

"I bet your sweet boy is going to squeal like a pig," Will said. "Like the pig he is. Does he make those little piggy sounds when you fuck him hard? Do you make him scream, daddy?"

With every word, Dante was less able to hold back his anger, and it took all his strength to not do something. Anything. Every muscle in his body was tense, the veins in his arms protruding, and hands balled into fists.

"Hannibal is going to have so much fun with your boy," Will leaned down again, again whispering right into Dante's ear. "He's going to make him..."

That moment a deafening scream met their ears, making Dante push against his restraints once more, and Will chuckle in gleeful delight.

The control the older man had over his emotions, even if he was at the brink of breaking, impressed Will. Not his provoking words, not the physical closeness he had forced on him, and not the scream of his husband could make the gallery owner snap.

"You know what he is doing right now to him?" Will continued to whisper close to him. "He is cutting into his skin. He is cutting into his flesh. Slicing the meat off his bones," Will was unable to hold back a giggle that surprised Dante and his head tilted a little to the side, his interest being awakened. "Hannibal is going to use all those fancy, expensive-looking knives you have in your fancy, expensive kitchen to get his flesh off his bones." Another giggle. "All that beautiful flesh."

Dante frowned. Something unexpected was happening, something he did not anticipate and did not see coming. Something that may turn the tables.

"Did you hear that Hannibal is a master chef?" Will asked, his voice speaking of excitement, eager and giddy. "You got a taste of his skills last night."

Dante's breathing became calm, he was taking deep breaths and trying to calm his nerves and emotions, but when Liam screamed again, he panted again and his fists tore once more against the ropes.

"Imagine what he will be able to do with met as perfect as that of your husband," Will continued. "I got a good look at him yesterday when he was in the shower. Not an ounce of fat on him, nothing but sinewy muscle. Like one of those pampered and spoiled cows in Japan I read about, just plain, perfect meat."

Will giggled once more, sounding almost like a child excited for a present it was promised, and Dante sensed that this man had lost control, that his mind was spinning in erratic thoughts.

"I bet you had a taste of your husband," Will went on. "Did you lick every spot of his body? What does he taste like? Sweet like his blood? Savory like his sweat? I'm certain you can't wait to dig your teeth into his flesh and consume him in the most perfect way until nothing is left of him. You will finally be truly one."

Will got so close to him that his skin finally touched Dante's, pressing his cheek against his in an almost intimate way, disgusting the older man with the familiarity he was implying.

"Imagine all the dishes Hannibal will be able to make off sweet Liam, all the fun we’re going to have together. Pies filled with his kidneys. Steaks from his loin. Soup from his bones. His heart cooked and marinated. Do you think you will be able to taste his love in his itty bitty heart?"

Again, Will giggled.

Dante had long realized that this long had stopped about being the bank account the intruders had demanded access too. This was about destroying something that Hannibal and Will had seen between two other men, something that was a unique bond. Was that jealousy? Was that resentment?

Or was Will just trying to provoke him into a reaction that he could not control?

"He will be delicious."

A giggle more.

"Delicious."

Another giggle.

"He will be delicious."

Dante turned his head and looked at the profiler whose reputation had been the topic of articles and tv discussions. Who had been called Hannibal Lecter's victim, a man that needed help and whose life more than once had almost been ruined by the criminal that had once been his friend.

Will Graham, who had been accused of being a killer himself.

Who had spent time in prison.

Who had seen friends be killed and had given himself over into friendship again to the man who again tried to kill him after having been betrayed. Who followed Lecter to Europe to confront him and finally brought him to justice and then had vanished with him after having had a hand in him breaking out of custody.

The man that had become Hannibal Lecter's accomplice.

The man who previously had accused him of grooming his husband to be his demure and submissive boy.

And Dante realized one thing, and it made him smile. He had been wrong about the reasons for Will's actions and words.

If one man in this house was groomed, it was Will Graham.

And now, Dante reacted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will could not react the moment Dante moved, had not the time to prepare, or even anticipate how quickly the other man would be able to move.

He could only stare wide-eyed, when the man who was seated right next to where he was standing his weight on the chair and used the leverage and the angle and made the chair tilt over, right on top of him.

Will gasped, the air pushed out of his lungs by the sudden impact of Dante's weight on top of him, trying to wriggle out of the restriction this meant for him, trying to crawl away, but Dante pushed his shoulder right into his collarbone, hard and with all the strength he had until he heard the bone break until the pressure. Will screamed in pain and surprise, while Dante pushed himself, still attached to the chair, up to face the man who had been threatening them and turned his head as far as he could.

Will was panting and stared at Dante in shock, the blue eyes wide and without the ability to acknowledge what was truly going on.

And then, Dante bit down.

Will's eyes widened almost comically when Dante dug his teeth into his throat, mimicking what he had just taunted him with, digging his teeth into the flesh of his husband. Instead, Dante bit down as hard as he could, his teeth tearing at skin, flesh, tendons, feeling the blood of the younger man fill his mouth and spray onto his face, but nothing of that stopped him. Instead, he continued to bite down, Will struggling, hitting him with both hands, trying to get the man off him, away from his throat, but he was losing blood too fast, too much. The pain was agonizing but it became difficult for Will to stay focused, to stay awake, while Dante furthermore clenched his jaw shut and did not let go, ignoring the man's fight for his life, still maintaining his self-control above anything else, the need to take over control of the whole devastating and terrifying situation becoming stronger and stronger with each passing second.

He did not care about the lives of the two strangers in his house.

He did not care about his own life and safety.

He only cared about the man he loved and whose love was the only thing that had kept him going through his past years.

Liam was everything to him, and if that man who had taken him away from him was hurting him as the wrecking screams indicated, he had no chance but to fight with everything in his power.

Will's muscles trembled and cramped, and Dante shifted his weight so he was still holding him down but could loosen the grip of his teeth, waiting, listening, and when he could be certain that the other man, whose life's essence he had drained from him, was no longer a threat, he lifted his head a little, exhausted and panting, the face and beard covered in blood.

Will was not moving, the eyes empty and still mirroring the terror of the past moments.

Dante was panting heavily, feeling himself every one of his years and pain, not only in a physical form. He spat remains of blood onto the body beneath him and tried to shift further, his hands still tied to the chair. He rolled himself a little to the side and saw from the corner of his eye the filet knife that Will must have dropped the moment he had attacked him. It needed further shifting and difficult movement until he had reached the knife and could grip it. He moved the knife in his hand until he could push the sharp blade against the rope that was holding him and pushed, and pushed again. He cut some of his skin, but the cuts were not deep until finally the rope was giving in and he could pull his hand from the restraint and get to cut his other hand free too, which now was much easier with a free hand.

He stood up, holding the knife in his hand that left no doubt that he was skilled with such a weapon in his hold, and listened without moving.

Nothing.

But then there was a moan, a short scream, and he moved into the direction he had heard the sounds come from.

In the hallway, he hesitated for a moment, listened again, and heard another sound, coming from the garage.

Anger rose in him, unbearable white rage and fire that he thought long diminished. But now, there was no doubt that he was burning with wrath and desperation.

He moved towards the door in the hallway that leads to the adjoined garage, and held still, again listening, not wanting to cause a reaction from Hannibal that could cost his husband's life.

When he heard nothing, he gripped the door handle and pushed the door open.

Liam was sitting on a stool, his hands tied with duct tape at his back, his ankles taped to the legs of the stool, making it impossible for him to escape. His shoulders were slumped forward, the head lowered, and would there not be the movement of his breathing, the shaking of his limbs, and the low moan, he would have almost looked dead to him.

Right in front of him stood Hannibal, holding a nail gun in his hands, that Liam used to build the frames for his paintings, loaded with staples to fix the canvas to the wooden frames, and Dante had no good feeling about Hannibal holding the tool and being so close to Liam.

Hannibal had noticed him entering and frowned a little at him, noticing that he was covered in blood that was not his own.

“What have you done to Will?” Hannibal asked.

Dante made a careful step closer, seeing how Liam turned his head a little at the sound of his steps.

“Liam,” he only said.

“M'alive,” Liam said, spitting out blood. “I could really do with a little help here.”

Dante was tempted to roll his eyes, but this was not the moment for their bickering, this was the moment they would fight for their lives.

“Cut him off,” Dante said.

“I asked what you have done to Will?” Hannibal repeated and raised the nailgun to aim the tool at Liam's head, who closed his eyes with a curse and turned the head away.

“I ripped out his throat like he deserved,” Dante said without emotion, making another step towards his husband, but still meters away from him, unable to reach him and push him out of Hannibal's proximity to have him miss should he fire the nailgun at him.

“You...killed him?” Hannibal asked, the face stern and unable to grasp the heaviness of this news.

Dante shrugged.

“Get away from him,” he ordered, shifting the knife in his hands.

But before Dante could do anything, Hannibal fired the nailgun at Liam's head.

Dante yelled.

Hannibal's face was a mask of hatred.

Liam shifted his weight and made the stool tilt over so that the shot staple missed his head and plucked into the wooden wall behind him.

With a few lightning-fast steps, Dante had reached Hannibal and hit him with a fist on the temple, made the infamous cannibal slump down and rush onto the wooden floor.

Dante turned around and turned his attention to the other man who was on the floor, his husband, who was struggling against the tape that held his legs and arms into place, having fallen into a weird angle.

“Need help?” Dante asked.

“You've got to be kidding me,” Liam said, lying front down on the floor, panting, the exhaustion clearly audible. “Get my fucking hands free.”

Dante could not help but chuckle and went to one knee to cut the duct tape and Liam pulled his hands to his front, while Dante also cut the tape that kept his legs close to the stool and pulled the seating furniture away from him. Liam rolled to his back and closed his eyes, rubbing his wrists, and now Dante could see that Hannibal had put two staples into his husband's cheek.

The hatred for the criminal doubled at seeing that his husband had been further wounded and would keep scars from this encounter on his handsome face.

He turned towards Hannibal who was slowly rising to his knees, and their eyes met.

Two predators, ready to fight for all that mattered to them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal held both hands up in his kneeling position, the eyes firmly connected to Dante's, but both men wide aware of the war was not over yet.

Dante rose, standing so close to Liam that his left foot touched the leg of his husband, who looked up at him.

"Love?" Liam said only, and Dante only nodded, bowed down, and picked up the nailgun that Hannibal had dropped and that the criminal was now staring at.

"Don't do anything you have not thought over," Hannibal said.

Dante's face was serious and showed no emotion.

"Like intruding the house of two men who you don't even know? Threatening their lives?" He asked and made a step towards Hannibal, grabbing something from the work desk that was right next to them, and pushed a button on the nailgun that let the magazine with the staples fall out.

Hannibal frowned, while Dante pushed a new magazine into the tool.

"Dante," Liam said behind him.

"Let me," Dante only said and the look that Hannibal saw on Liam's face, not quite resignation but showing that he would not further intrude into what the other man was doing, told him that the gallery owner had his own plans how to finish this war, how their last battle was going to end.

Standing in front of the kneeling man, Dante looked down at Hannibal, one of the most feared criminals the FBI ever had hunted. He looked no longer like a threat, only like a man who was far from the strength that his reputation told legends of, and with one foot, he kicked him against the chest and made him tumble backward.

With a graceful move like a cat, Dante was immediately on his chest, holding him down with his weight, and moved Hannibal's right arm until it was in a 90 degrees angle to his body, and before Hannibal could comprehend what was happening, had nailed his hand to the hardwood floor, having exchanged the magazine with the staples with one with long carpeting nails. Hannibal let our a scream that Dante had not expected, having seen the man so far not lose control, but it was pleasing him. While Hannibal was still wrapping his brain around the fact that this mere businessman had overpowered him, he had done the same to his other hand and had the man now nailed to the floor.

He stood back up and looked down at him.

"You should have picked your last prey more careful," Dante said down at him.

"My last...," Hannibal was repeating, confused, still not quite understanding what was going on.

Dante continued to look at him, calm and reserved, like he always had been, unmoving and dominant.

"I should make you suffer for what you have done to Liam and to our home. That you have stained our home with your presence," he said, the voice unmistakably a threat. "That you thought you could inflict fear in us."

Hannibal blinked, the pain from his hands where Dante had nailed him to the floor too much to keep his brain alert.

"I should make you suffer," Dante repeated and started to turn away. But then he turned again towards Hannibal, looked straight into his eyes and lifted the nailgun, firing one last time.

The nail hit Hannibal right between his eyes.

A small trickle of blood escaped the wound that had pushed a hole through his skull and into his brain.

The light in his eyes was vanishing and one last breath was leaving his open mouth.

"But you are not worth it," Dante said and turned to look at Liam and check on him, but he froze on the spot.

Liam was pulled into a kneeling position on his own, held back by Will, who was covered in blood and was looking at him from crazy eyes that spoke of shock and pain. He was staring at his partner, dead behind Dante, and was pressing the filet knife that Dante had stupidly dropped against Liam's throat.

"You...," he rasped from his destroyed throat that was still losing blood, and Dante asked himself how he had even been able to get here after the blood loss, closer to death than to be alive.

The blade pressed into Liam's skin, but Liam's eyes told Dante to not make a move.

"You'll let me go," Will said. "And your boy is my insurance."

Dante raised both hands and let the nailgun drop, nodding slowly, and watched how Will pulled Liam up with him, leaning wounded and heavily on his husband who was in pain himself, and made a move towards the door. When Dante started to make a move on instinct, Liam shook his head and Will made a short sound that warned him that he would kill Liam without hesitation should he try anything, and so Dante let him leave the garage, waited not more than a second and then followed them slowly, soundless, but aware that both other men knew that he was on their heels.

Will brought Liam outside, where Dante had parked their car, a silver SUV the day they had returned home, one two days ago, but it felt like years already.

"Key," Will ordered.

"I don't have them on me," Liam said.

"I have," Dante said, having taken the keys when he had passed the hallway on his way outside, standing four to five meters away from the two.

Will turned, Liam still in his grasp, and looked at Dante.

"Throw," he said and Dante did.

The keys landed at Will's feet and he looked down. Instead of getting them himself, he pushed Liam down.

"Pick up," he ordered the short-haired man and he complied. "Open the car and start the engine."

Liam moved slowly, turning towards the car, again the demure man, the boy as Will had called him, who did not look into anyone's eyes and held his head low.

But then he moved at a surprising speed and pushed Will to the side, and attacked.

He crashed into Will's side and made him tumbled backward but lost balance himself and fell down, which gave Dante the second to make a move on his own and spring forward and jump Will, pressing his fingers into the wound at his throat, while Liam got back to his feet and grabbed the knife that had fallen to the ground once more and circled Will from a low posture and then made a cut into Will's leg, and another into Will's side.

Again, Liam fell, and Dante pushed Will away from them before he could defend himself against the two predators the victims had become, both stained with blood and sweat, both wounded and panting, both exhausted.

Will moved backward, having taking possession of the knife again that had slipped again from Liam's hands and held it out to keep the attackers away from him. Dante raised between Liam and Will, making himself a wall that had to be conquered should Will wish to attack Liam once again.

"You want your spot in the history books of criminal science, Žudikas?" Will yelled at the older man, who stood there panting and covered in blood. No longer only his own, but also Hannibal's blood, Will realized. "The man who took down Hannibal the cannibal and Will Graham?"

Will looked right into the maroon eyes of this opponent, whose face was a mirror of his angered emotions, no longer hidden, crashing onto the surface like a sudden storm.

Gasping, he stumbled backward, the loose stones underneath his feet shifting, moving until he started to lose balance.

Becoming aware of the predatory stare in Dante's eyes, unyielding, dominant and dangerous, his heartbeat skipped and dropping the bloody knife, he stumbled again, reaching out with one hand which was covered in Liam's blood, something Dante noticed with a twitch of his lips, trying to find some sort of salvation from what was becoming unavoidable.

His hand grabbed into emptiness, his fingertips brushing Dante's sleeve, who remained unmoving, stoically watching the scene that was unfolding in front of him, staring with almost cruel eyes that seemed to never blink.

And then his eyes widened further in final recognition of the hopelessness of his situation.

“You,” Dante said, the voice not much more than a raspy snarl. “are not Will Graham.”

First shock, then understanding and lethal realization dawned on his face, and then he tumbled further backward, where he lost the last of his balance, lost his footing and fell into the abyss of the canyon, not even being able to let out a scream, facing the ultimate release.

Dante continued to look at the spot where the other man had just stood, and then, with a deep breath, he turned around, exhaustion and weary, looking for the other man who was slowly raising, covered in his own and their opponents' blood, soaked through his clothing to the skin, shivering and breathless. His face too was a mask of tiredness and spoke of inanition.

While he still was panting, a smile started to appear, realizing they both had survived once again against all odds.

“Hannibal,” he said, his voice a whisper filled with pain, blue eyes on his husband. “Let's not do this ever again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Hannibal came out of the bathroom later that night, almost in the morning, he overheard Will on the phone.

His husband was sitting leaned against pillows in their bed, the cell phone in his left hand, and two folders on the duvet, his glasses on his nose that he was rubbing with a tired expression. Noticing Hannibal leaning against the door, watching him, he smiled and waved him closer.

“No, we're really okay. A bit damaged but far from broken, Jack,” he said, and Hannibal gave an approving nod, having already known who Will would be talking to. “You really need to stop worrying about us. We're not the bad boys here, I promise.” Will chuckled when Hannibal rolled his eyes while sitting down on his side of the wide bed, reaching over and touching Will's side. Again, Will looked over to him and gave him a soft smile. “Jack says hi,” he told Hannibal, who returned the smile.

Will leaned further into the pillows and closed his eyes, being observed by Hannibal, who saw the tiredness of his soulmate with worry. The bruises on his face were darkening and in a day or two he would look like he had been in a street fight. The cuts on his arm were bandaged and he had put stitches into the wound on his shoulder. Once again, Will had been hurt because of the relationship he had to the infamous criminal fugitive, and once again, Hannibal asked himself if all this was worth it, but he knew the answer.

“We'll have a look at the files tomorrow...Yeah, good night, Jack,” Will said and ended the call, and looked again at Hannibal. “He's sending a team up in a day or two, he's giving us another call before they come, to clean the mess up.”

Hannibal nodded and took the folders to put them onto the nightstand on his side of the bed, shifting until he found his place under the covers next to Will, and pulling the smaller man closer into his arms. Immediately, Will put his head against Hannibal's shoulder, sighing in contempt, and Hannibal pressed a kiss into his short hair.

“I miss your curls,” Hannibal said, and Will laughed.

“I could be convinced to let them grow out again,” he replied. “Maybe my husband can think of something to convince me with.”

Hannibal returned the laugh and buried his nose again in the soft hair, taking in the scent of Will's shampoo, comforting and well known.

“Does Jack know who they were?” He then asked, knowing that Will had asked his former boss and reluctant friend about the two men that had shaken their peaceful life.

“He has not given me names. Hannibal, he was a prisoner in an asylum and started to reenact you because he realized that he could pass for your doppelganger. Around the time you were locked up. He broke out and kept a low profile for a while, but it seems like he went looking for his Will, and found a hooker who was wanted for several murders on johns in Louisiana a few years ago. Instable would be an understatement. It looks like it was easy for him to groom him to believe he was me and follow him blindly,” Will told him. “Their demise is not a loss for mankind.”

“I don't feel regret for their deaths, Will,” Hannibal said. “And you should not either.”

“I don't,” Will agreed. “But it's scary to think that they were copying us.”

Hannibal touched Will's chin and made him look up.

“They were nothing like us, Will,” Hannibal whispered and kissed his husband. “Nothing. That man picked his already insane boy because he looked like you and was easy to manipulate, not for his heart and soul.”

“Are you telling me you picked me for my heart and soul?” Will laughed against the lips of his partner. “And here I thought you loved me for my looks and my hot body.”

Hannibal smiled into another kiss, intimate and gentle.

“Those things help, yes,” he whispered, his voice had grown hoarse. “But I picked you for you being my equal.”

Will pinched Hannibal's side in a playful manner, sometimes wondering why he had never been this at ease with Molly or Margot or any of the women he had been with before he had been with Hannibal. And he knew the answer was that Hannibal was right.

“I love you,” Will said, words that sometimes still felt alien on his tongue, and Hannibal continued to smile while the kisses they shared grew more heated and their breathing became moans.

“Desperate?” Hannibal asked, grinding his groin against Will's, feeling how his husband's cock was hardening against him.

“Desperate?” Will replied with another grin. “That’s an understatement. I'm fucking horny, Hannibal.”

Hannibal inched away, allowing Will to chase his lips for another kiss, and shook his head.

“Are you trying to be rude, my dear Will?”

Will raised a brow, a Cheshire grin on his face.

“If that makes you want to eat me, my dear Hannibal,” he said with a smirk. “I could get a lot ruder.”

“A nuisance,” Hannibal said between kisses, enjoying way too much how Will was the cause for him to let go of his stern and posh facade. “You are a nuisance, William Graham. My sweet, dear, cunning boy.”

“That's William Lecter to you, Doctor Lecter,” he found himself corrected.

“Actually, it's Liam Žudikas,” he said and shut Will finally up with a heated kiss that took Will's breath away while he rolled him onto his back and pushed his tongue deep into his mouth, consuming the kiss and drinking the taste of the man he had loved since the first moment they had met, back then in Jack's office.

“You can call me whatever you want if you just get yourself inside me. Now,” Will said, already panting and tasting his own salty sweat on Hannibal's lips.

Hannibal's silver strands were falling into Will's face, tickling his forehead, but he did not care, looking up at the gorgeous man whose unique maroon eyes were blown wide with lust, that man who had once been the center of his nightmares and equally of his dreams, and now was his and his alone, a tamed tiger whose claws sometimes came out.

Hannibal was kissing a trail down Will's jaw and neck, sucking at his collarbone to add his own mark to the collection of bruises the insane killers had left behind, and went further down, while Will continued to pant and watch his husband find pleasure in pleasuring him. His hot lips found their way down to Will's already pebbled nipple, where he sucked on one, while his fingers started to pinch and twist the other, knowing very well how to cause Will to arch his back into his touch and moan even louder than before.

Will whispered his name and dug one of his hands info the still damp strands of Hannibal's hair, seeking leverage and at the same time, he wanted his husband to just go on and never stop. Hannibal's tongue flicked over a nipple before he continued the trail down Will's body and finally reached those parts that were only known to him in these days, and his nose brushed over the short trimmed hair of his pubes, nestling and avoiding contact with Will's already painfully aroused cock. Instead, he let the back of his hand brush over the silky skin of Will's balls and made Will shiver in anticipation and spread his legs further, opening himself to make space for Hannibal, who now licked agonizingly slowly up the length of Will's shaft while his fingers still caressed his balls and then found their way to the spot behind them, where he knew he could Will drive crazy with desire. Letting one of his fingers touch the twitching opening to Will's body, he looked up and found Will's eyes dark with need, who gave him a lopsided smile.

“You took too long in the shower,” he said with a grin at Hannibal's inquiring look after having found Will already opened and lubed up.

“Eager?”

Will shrugged and reached down to let his hand run through Hannibal's hair.

“A little,” he said. “Still high on adrenaline.”

Hannibal hummed and licked again over the velvet of Will's shaft and then took the leaking tip into his mouth and sucked gently. Will closed his eyes and pressed his head into the pillows, a long moan escaping him while Hannibal made sure that he was no longer able to form a clear thought. It felt like hours and still not long enough until Hannibal eased his way back up his body and their lips found each other again in a searing kiss, Will tasting himself on Hannibal, smiling again into the intimate touch and feeling the hardness of his husband pressing into his hip.

“Want you bad,” Will whispered against Hannibal's scruffy cheek and tried to wiggle himself from Hannibal's tight embrace but was stopped by a strong hand on his shoulder. “My turn,” he said, explaining what he was trying to do, but Hannibal shook his head and kissed the tip of Will's nose.

“Tonight is just for you,” he said.

The corner of Will's lip twitched and he pulled Hannibal down to continue their slow and intimate kisses until Hannibal slowly changed his position on top of Will who readily opened his legs for him and allowed his husband to guide his way into his ready body. Entering Will's tightness was still an almost spiritual experience for Hannibal, closing his eyes and enjoying every second of their union until he finally bottomed out, having Will stretched and filled, who was holding his breath like he always did when they joined their bodies, no matter who of them was the one being taken by the other.

Will's thighs trembled and his feet sought for leverage on the mattress when Hannibal started to slowly move, every thrust torture and bliss at the same time, gentle and intense, always aware of both their injuries. Their lips did not leave each other, drowning in each other's breath, whispering sweet nothings until words were not being able to be formed anymore and the room was only filled with the sound of their movements and the moans that escaped both men.

Like a well-oiled machine, knowing everything about their partner, it did not take long until both found release and Will dug his short fingernails into Hannibal's moving shoulders, legs angled up and holding Hannibal's hips in place, trying to urge him even deeper, closer, wanting to become one with the man he had loved for years already.

They held each other panting and trying to collect heir senses after the climax that cascaded over their joined bodies within seconds from each other until Hannibal lifted his head that he had held buried at Will's shoulder and looked into the blue-grey-green eyes of his husband and lover.

“What have I ever done without you,” Will whispered and returned the smile that Hannibal gave him, always happy when he saw the usually stoic and reserved former psychiatrist lose his demeanor and allowed himself to be truly himself.

Hannibal smiled knowingly, remembering the day after their fall down the bluff, when they were hiding on the boat he had held ready for them at the coast, controlled by Chiyoh, and taking care of the wounds the Red Dragon had left on them. He had Will had not talked much during those first days, both uncertain what this meant for their relationship, while Chiyoh watched every move Will made with suspicion until he took her to the side and told her that he was with Hannibal now and that he would not hand him over to the authorities. The first kiss they shared was initiated by Will, and came to a surprise for Hannibal, while he changed the bandages on his face. Then too they were still high on adrenaline and the kiss that Will quickly deepened and that lead to a first sexual encounter that felt like the end of every of Hannibal's dreams. Will had been insecure and hesitant, having considered himself straight until then, but had given himself over to Hannibal and finally found himself feeling comfortable in his own skin, with his own thoughts and desires. Sometimes he truly thought that Will Graham died that night and Liam Žudikas was born. Hannibal had everything prepared for their escape, money, passports, and paperwork declaring them a married couple, and Will could not help but be touched by all the thought Hannibal had put into all this. After a few months in Cuba, they returned to the States and Hannibal had surprised him by bringing one day two of his dogs home who he thought he would never see again in his life, and Hannibal not once had fussed about the dog hair in their bed of on his clothes that Buster and Winston left behind. Will had taken up painting already in Cuba, out of a mood, but people seemed to like what he did, and Hannibal beamed with pride when one of his paintings sold in the gallery he opened in the small tourist town that was close to the house he bought for them. Except for Barnes, who blamed their dogs for everything happening, while never having set paw on his property and never having been close to his prized rabbits, they were popular in town and had made friends.

It was a good life. A life that Will never expected he would have, a life that was the best he could ever have.

With his husband.

With a serial killer.

With Hannibal Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for Author's Notes!


	2. AUTHOR'S NOTES

So, this is it.

  
A few explanations are given in the epilogue already, but to clear things further:

  
Hannibal and Will obviously survived the fall and went into hiding.

Wanting to return to the States, Will arranged a deal with Jack – they work from their hiding place, supporting Jack's team with their profiling knowledge, living a quiet and peaceful life with Will doing his best to stop Hannibal from killing and eating everyone he considers rude (which may or may not always work).

  
Kudos to those who may notice one or the other hint that was hidden in the story:

  * Hannibal's fancy coffee machine
  * the picture of the dogs, a retriever mix and a terrier, who are Winston and Buster, who Hannibal somehow got back after their return and who are doggy retirement with their two dads now as senior doggos
  * the mention of the caller's (who was Jack) wife, called Bella, which was the name of Jack's deceased wife and a warning for him that something is wrong
  * Dante is one of Hannibal's favorite poets
  * Liam being a different abbreviation from William than Will
  * Žudikas is the Lithuanian word for "killer" (yeah, subtle choice...I'm pretty sure that is Will's sarcasm gotten the upper hand there)
  * Hannibal's lock screen code 571003 – it's Will's date of birth 30/01/75 in the reverse direction
  * the scar on Liam's/Will's cheek from when Dolarhyde stabbed him



And here's a second collage with how I envision Will and Hannibal (well, Liam and Dante) in this story.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/RisingPhnx1
> 
> Comments are very welcome! Tell me what you think!
> 
> English is not my first language, so there will be mistakes.


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